


your presence at dawn

by nyckolodeo_n



Series: First Meetings [2]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:00:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyckolodeo_n/pseuds/nyckolodeo_n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s a bit cold out to not have a jacket on, mate. Are you alright?” The stranger sounds very genuinely concerned about Thomas’s well being and somehow, that just makes Thomas more nervous to actually look up at the person standing in front of him. He does anyway, slowly lifts his head so that he’s looking into the very, very brown eyes of the very, very attractive stranger in front of him. Thomas really needs to start trying to befriend the people in his building. Really. “Hello? Earth to The cute brunette on the bench, you’re not going into shock are you?” Thomas shakes his head, albeit very slowly, in response. “Oh thank goodness, because I actually have no idea what to do in that kind of situation.” He chuckles slightly and Thomas just kind of stares at him because seriously, who is this guy and why is someone as beautiful as him – Thomas has to remind himself that it is still no earlier than four in the morning and this guy looks like a model – talking to someone as mediocre as Thomas. “Uh, I’m Minho. And you look pretty cold. How ‘bout you tell me your name and you can use my jacket.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	your presence at dawn

**Author's Note:**

> here's a little distraction for those of you waiting for me to update love is a polariod  
> ([found here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4543080))
> 
>  
> 
> _see end note and enjoy_

Thomas doesn’t realize what’s happening at first. He’s half asleep, this really loud buzzing sound going off around him, and he doesn’t understand what the fuck is going on. At first he thinks it’s his phone alarm telling him it’s time to get ready for his English lecture, but when he glances out the window he realizes it’s way too early for that, and _shit_ he shouldn’t have drank so much last night. Taking on Newt in a drinking competition was a stupid idea, no matter what teasing anyone does. He knows better than to drink on a school night, but Derby County was playing Liverpool last night and he couldn’t have given less of a fuck at that point in time. But _honestly_ what is that awful noise and why is it waking him up at ass o’clock in the morning? He’s starting to wake up a little more now and he slowly pushes himself up in bed, running a hand through his hair and down his face in an attempt to wake himself up faster.

 

There are flashing lights outside his window, and really that should have been a sign that this was a rather serious matter, but moving quickly seemed rather unnecessary so he was slow in making his way to look out the window. Looking down from his fifth story flat, there are fire trucks stopped outside of his building. Thomas groans, because _seriously? Who_ is up at three-o’clock in the morning trying to _cook?_ Newt busts into his room then, rambling about how irresponsible it is to even be up at this hour because it’s a _school night_ and Thomas’s just smacks him on the back of the head because Newt has absolutely no room to talk about responsibility after the amount of drinks he had the night before, and the fucker knows it. Thomas slips his shoes on and the closest shirt he can find and follows Newt out the door of their flat and down the many, many stairs Thomas suddenly regrets never taking in the three years he’s lived here. Walking up and down stairs are just a lot of work, ok?

 

They’re almost out the front door, firemen escorting people out and making sure no one’s injured when Thomas feels it; the night air is frigid and piercing against his skin and he seriously can’t believe that he seriously _forgot his hoodie_ in the _middle of November_ in _New York._ It’s at least forty degrees outside and has been no higher than that for at least two weeks and he can’t believe he _forgot his bloody fucking jumper._ He sighs at his realization but doesn’t say anything to Newt. The last thing he needs right now is to be scolded at for how irresponsible he is and how he “won’t forget it next time.” Newt’s such a prick sometimes but Thomas still loves him. Sometimes.

 

When the boys get outside there’s a group of firemen who are asking everyone if they’re ok and when they both say they’re fine the men move on. Thomas’s shaking like a Chihuahua and he knows he should just fess up, tell Newt how stupid he was and snuggle up the other boy so he doesn’t bloody freeze to death. But Thomas’s a bit too proud for that so he sucks it up and wraps his arms around himself, hoping the friction from rubbing his hands up and down his arms is enough to keep him warm until they let all the residents back in the building. He looks around at the other people standing out on the pavement and it hits him that he doesn’t really know at least seventy-percent of the people in his building, and that’s quite startling to Thomas, because usually he knows everyone everywhere he goes. But apparently that rule doesn’t apply to his own living residence.

“Thomas? Thomas are you even listening to me? Thomas.” Newt’s snapping his fingers in front of Thomas’s face and the brunette boy shakes his head a bit to get out of his daze, eyes focusing on his flat mate stood in front of him, worry etched into his face.

 

“What, Newt?” Thomas questions, and Newt sighs at him and shakes his head. “What, what did I do? Why are you sighing at me?”

 

“Were you even _listening_ to the firemen?” Thomas shakes his head and ignores when Newt frowns at him. “They said we could be out here for a while because they’ve got to check each individual flat for possible damage, even though the one that cause the alarm to go off is on one of the upper floors. I was gonna go grab a cuppa at the diner. You want something?” Actually, now that Newt mentions it that is actually a brilliant idea and would definitely help him not be cold anymore. He nods his head in agreement and Newt promises him that he’ll be right back before turning around and heading in the opposite direction. Leaving Thomas alone. Surrounded by people he doesn’t know.

 

 

Thomas looks around at the people surrounding him, eyebrows scrunching closer together with each unfamiliar face. He sighs at himself for never trying to befriend any of these people, because maybe if he had, he could ask for a jacket from someone and feeling a tad awkward like does right now probably wouldn’t be a problem. But Thomas’s an idiot and focused more on his studies in his first two years of University than he did on making friends and he’s never regretted it as much as he has now. _You learn from your mistakes_ he tells himself in his mind and he stores away for the next time he’s up at three am that he will definitely not forget any kind of long sleeve something so he doesn’t almost _die._

 

He shuffles awkwardly to a wooden bench that no one ever uses and sits down, pulling his arms into his shirt so he can conserve as much heat as possible. He groans remembering Newt’s words about the firemen having to check _every_ flat in the building; because there are ten flats on each floor and approximately twelve floors. Thomas’s pretty sure he’s going to die. He closes his eyes, just in case is suspicions are proven true so it’s quick and easy and he’ll never notice the difference.

 

Thomas _hates_ New York’s weather.

 

-x-

 

Approximately twenty-minutes later and Newt still hasn’t come back with Thomas’s tea, and the brunette is just getting colder and colder. He has no idea how thoroughly the firemen are checking each flat or what flat or floor they’re even on so he can’t even fake being hopeful that maybe they’re almost finished. He rubs his hands up and down his sides, shivering a bit when suddenly there’s a figure in front of him. The brunette freezes, not knowing what to expect or how to react to the person in front of him. The person he has yet to look in the face, don’t forget.

 

“It’s a bit cold out to not have a jacket on, bro. Are you alright?” The stranger sounds very genuinely concerned about Thomas’s well being and somehow, that just makes Thomas _more_ nervous to actually look up at the person standing in front of him. He does anyway, slowly lifts his head so that he’s looking into the very, _very_ brown eyes of the very, _very_ attractive stranger in front of him. Thomas _really_ needs to start trying to befriend the people in his building. Really. “Hello? Earth to The Cute Brunette on the bench. You’re not going into shock are you?” Thomas shakes his head, albeit very slowly, in response. “Oh thank goodness, because I actually have no idea what to do in that kind of situation.” He chuckles slightly and Thomas just kind of stares at him because seriously, _who is this guy_ and _why_ is someone as beautiful as him – Thomas has to remind himself that it is still no earlier than four in the morning and this guy looks like a model – talking to someone as mediocre as Thomas. “Uh, I’m Minho. And you look pretty cold. How ‘bout you tell me your name and you can use my jacket.”

 

Thomas clears his throat and sits up a little straighter, thinking about the situation he’s gotten himself into. He _is_ very cold and it would be great to use this guys, Minho’s, jacket, but on the other hand he doesn’t really _know_ this guy and what if this is all some trick that ends with Minho… actually he has no idea what it is that Minho would do and he’s way too cold to think up a scenario; so he clears his throat again, causing Minho to raise his left eyebrow a bit in question. “I’m Thomas and would most definitely love to use your jacket.” He pauses at the smirk that’s forms on the other boys face. “Since you’re offering it up and all.” Minho’s smirk gets deeper and Thomas shifts a bit on the bench, uncertain of what to do; because what if this guy is just joking? What if he’s taking the piss out of Thomas and in about twelve seconds he’s going to start laughing in Thomas’s face and talk about how _“Like I would really let_ you _use my jacket.”_ But that’s not what happens.

 

Actually, the exact opposite happens.

 

Minho slips his jacket off of his shoulders and moves to sit next to Thomas, the brunette shuffling over to make sure there’s plenty of room for them to both fit comfortably on the bench. When he’s seated, Minho takes his jacket – leather, of _course_ it is – and lightly drapes it over Thomas’s shoulders, adjusting so it fits as tightly as it can around Thomas’s shoulders but the shorter boy can still get his arms through if he wants to. Minho’s hands linger a bit on Thomas’s chest, but Thomas’s convinced he imagined and doesn’t dwell on it too long, immediately putting his arms through the sleeves of the new source of warmth and he wraps it tighter around his front, sighing in relief as his arms thank him by warming up almost immediately. Minho’s still sitting next to him, half smile on his face, and if they hadn’t just met literally five minutes ago, Thomas would say it’s fond, maybe even admiration. But seeing as how he’s smiling at Thomas and, hello only met five minutes ago, there’s no way it’s either of those things.

 

“So, Minho,” Thomas runs his hands through his hair. Now would be a really good time for Newt to come and save him from whatever stupid thing he’s about to say. But he’s not that lucky, so he says it anyways, “fine weather we’re having this morning, yeah?” He mentally kicks himself but keeps a neutral expression on the outside, very careful to not show the dark-haired boy how nervous he actually is. Minho laughs, actually _laughs_ at his very stupid joke and Thomas adds that to the top of his favorite things about the boy in front of him; the way Minho’s face looks when he laughs, eyes crinkled at the sides and a wide smile on his face, nose slightly scrunched. It makes him look younger, though he’s probably around Thomas’s age. Thomas doesn’t believe in love at first sight but there’s a very high possibility that he has just most definitely fallen in love with the boy sitting across from him on this bench.

 

“ _Great_ weather we’re having this morning, Thomas. This is the nicest New York’s ever felt.” They both smile for a half a second before cracking, laughing and falling over each other like they’ve known each other for years, Minho clinging to Thomas’s shoulder while Thomas’s face is buried in the crook of Minho’s neck. “Good day for a walk in the park, wouldn’t you say?” They laugh some more and it’s easy. Thomas has known the boy sitting next to him for no more than ten minutes and they make puns, rather badly he admits, with each other like they’ve known each other their entire lives. Thomas kind of feels like he has but he keeps that to himself, sitting up straight again in his seat as Minho puts himself back together.

 

“How long have you lived in the building?” Thomas blurts out, eyes widening at his sudden intrusion, but he can’t seem to get the apology out of his mouth for being so nosy. Though it doesn’t seem to bother Minho, because he answers, smile still on his face.

  
“I actually just moved in about a month ago. My mate, Alby, and I go to University together not far from here. Since we both have jobs and we’ve been best friends since we were three we thought that it just made the most sense to get a flat together the last two years of Uni. You’re actually the first person I’ve officially met, been too busy with school to actually put effort into being a good neighbor and all that.” Minho smiles. “What about you? How long have you lived here?”

 

“Well, you see,” Thomas starts.

  
Minho doesn’t ask him to stop.

 

-x-

 

It feels like it’s only been minutes when they’re finally told they can go back inside the building. Thomas and Minho had spent the entire time exchanging embarrassing stories and their favorite subjects in school (anything music related for Thomas, anything track related for Minho). Thomas learns that Minho’s actually going to school for an English degree and a minor in art and that he’s got sisters, one older the rest younger and that he favorite color is a light pink. (“Kind of like your lips,” he’d said. Thomas’s probably still blushing). Thomas tells Minho about his brother and Newt and how he’s going to school for Music and Sound Engineering with a minor in business and that his favorite sport is football. Thomas’s kind of dreading going back inside though, because somehow Thomas and Minho had ended up cuddling on the bench while they were sharing their stories, Thomas tucked under Minho’s arm, the two of them sharing the leather jacket.

 

When they get up from the bench, Thomas expects it to be awkward. He doesn’t really know what you’re supposed to do in these situations. He’s never met a beautiful person at three in the morning before. But it’s not, awkward that is. Minho drapes the jacket over Thomas’s shoulders again, hands lingering on the skinnier boy's shoulders for a second – Thomas definitely didn’t imagine it this time – before hanging down at his side. “I had fun, Thomas. We should do this again sometime.”  
  
“What, nearly freeze to death while sharing out life stories?” Minho glares at Thomas and the brunette boy just smiles back, a sign that he’s totally joking around and he’s not a total ass. “How about next time, if that’s what you really want, we do this when I’ve had more than three hours of sleep and neither of us feel like we’re going to die of hypothermia.” It’s an over exaggeration but it pretty much fits the situation if you squint really hard. Thomas suddenly feels really nervous and, wow, the ground is _very_ interesting from where he’s standing. Were those cracks always there? He scuffs his shoes and rolls his shoulders, not really sure what to do in this situation; because, yeah he’s had boyfriends and girlfriends before – Thomas is not picky what-so-ever – but he’s never felt so smitten so quickly and he’s not quite sure how to process this information in his head all that well.

 

“How about, instead, you meet me out here at around seven o’clock on Saturday and we’ll go see a movie. It’ll be a heated room and a reasonable hour, and if you look this good at three in the morning I can’t wait to see how you look dressed in proper clothes.” Minho’s tone is equal parts teasing and serious. He sees rather than feels Minho’s index finger lift his chin so they’re looking directly into each other’s eyes. “Would that be okay with you, Thomas?” The brown-eyed boy looks extremely hopeful and, though he wouldn’t say no anyways, he would look like a complete ass if he said no. Minho should never frown, _though he probably looks just as good doing that as anything else,_ his brain unhelpfully supplies.

 

“That would be great. Totally, completely great and awesome. Totally. Uh.” Thomas rubs the back of his head. “I mean, uh, yeah. That sounds really nice.” Thomas can feel the heat in his cheeks and he wants to run away, like, now. Very far away. “I should um, go. My mate, Newt, has probably been looking for me for a while now. Um, I’ll see you on, uh, Saturday. Right, Saturday.” Thomas slowly starts to back away but before he can get too far, Minho catches his arm and pulls Thomas to where he’s aligned perfectly with the other boy’s body. Minho is just barely taller than him and when Thomas looks up at him he can see how incredibly long the other’s eyelashes are and how his eyes are actually probably more of a hazel than just brown. It’s a bit overwhelming and when Minho places a soft kiss to the brunette’s lips, said brunette may or may not feel like he’s going to faint.

 

They pull apart then, Minho still holding onto Thomas’s arm slightly and it’s only when Minho raises his eyebrows at him that the brunette remembers; right Newt, gotta find Newt. Thomas smiles at Minho and pushes forward for another kiss, slightly less gently and with a little more need than before. When he pulls back again, Minho’s looking at him a little bit like he’s in love with him already, and Thomas can’t handle it. Thomas takes a step back and smiles at the dark haired, dorky personality of a boy in front of him. “Good night, Min.” He turns and makes his way to the stairs, half looking for Newt, half not really caring where his flat mate is. He still hasn’t spotted Newt by the time he’s gotten all the way to his door, but he doesn’t really care much more by the time he’s gotten to the second floor.

 

Because all Thomas can think about as he unlocks the door are how nice Minho’s smile is; his pretty pink lips spread wide across his teeth as he looks at Thomas or laughs at the dumb joke Thomas’s made for the fifth time in a row. All he can think about as he stops for a sip of water in the kitchen is the way Minho’s eyes glow when he’s talking about his family and how you can hear the excitement in his voice as he talks about his classes. And Thomas’s so enamored with the other boy, it’s a bit ridiculous because he’s known him for the equivalent of maybe two hours, three at the most, and he feels like he could die right now and he would be the happiest he’s ever been. He makes his way to his bedroom and slips his shoes off by his desk, flipping off the lamp as he moves towards the bed.

 

It isn’t until he under his duvet, sleep just seconds away that he remembers that he’s still got the leather jacket. His lips curl up slightly and as he slips into sleep. Thomas has the most restful night he’s had in weeks that night, as he dreams about warm eyes and pink lips belonging to the most beautiful person he thinks he’s ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> if this looks familiar it's probably because i posted a short exerpt from it as a ziall story a really long time ago, sooo.  
> also, unfortunately i don't own any of the characters soooo :)


End file.
